War.

Leon knew that having matters come this far wasn’t a good thing, but he had to admit that being back on the warpath felt quite nostalgic. He was now pushing forty, and the last time he’d been at the head of a proper army had been during the campaign on the Serpentine Isles nearly twenty years ago.

Now, he departed Stormhollow with four thousand troops at his back.

He’d initially only sent out calls to assemble an army of about three thousand—his Tempest Knights as they were, at about six hundred strong, and the rest of the three thousand made up of troops lent from the Tribes. However, when the call went out, he was contacted by Iron-Striker and several others in the central army’s chain of command not only offering their services in dealing with Hector but seeming almost insulted that he asked for Tribal armies rather than the one that Iron-Striker had built.

Truth be told, Leon didn’t quite trust the central army yet. He could trust the Tribes to follow him but the central army had yet to earn the same. That Hector had, until recently, been in overall command of the central army, that the forces that followed him out to the castle he was now squatting in were deserters from that army, and that most of the soldiers in the army were fellow Tigers contributed greatly to his feelings on the matter.

But one of those who’d gotten in contact with him, by way of Tillan, was Tillan’s daughter. She was a fairly high-ranking sixth-tier mage in the central army, and after a short conversation, Leon had agreed to allow her to take a battalion-sized element of central soldiers and join him. Most of the soldiers in the central army may have been Tigers, but there were soldiers from all Ten Tribes in its ranks.

When setting off from Stormhollow, he’d honestly expected a rather conventional—by his standards—movement. They’d take ships across the lake and then up the river, build a staging camp close to Hector’s castle, and then move from there. The men and women he’d put in charge of this army, however, had different plans. That was not how the Ten Tribes made war, or so they told Leon.

Instead of using their much-vaunted ‘dread ships’, as they were known across the Veins of Vigilance, they’d be taking arks. The Ten Tribes had more arks than any one of the Empires, and they put that material wealth on display for Leon as his army assembled. Three dozen transport arks were required, all with limited armor, armaments, and maneuvering capabilities, but each one capable of carrying a hundred and fifty troops to wherever they needed to go. Several of those arks were even specialized to carry war beasts of varying sizes.

With these arks, it would only take a matter of a day to reach Hector, who had no arks of his own.

In addition to the transport arks, his people had also pulled three war arks from the yards for this operation—a spectacular expense, but one that Leon was wholeheartedly in support of. Rebellion and desertion of this sort couldn’t be allowed to fester. He had to show the Ten Tribes that he wasn’t going to scrimp on keeping his new Kingdom together.

So, only a couple days after Linda gave Leon the briefing on Hector’s whereabouts, his force departed Stormhollow by air. It would only take them a couple of days to arrive…

—

Rage burned white hot within Hector. For the past few weeks, he’d seen what few soldiers that had followed him out of Stormhollow whittle themselves down to half their original number, and that wasn’t even his biggest problem.

He still had a few friends in Stormhollow—not close enough to abandon the capital for him, but still close enough to slip him a heads-up about what might be coming.

And what was coming was not good.

“We should abandon this endeavor,” one of his adjutants advised.

“After desertion?” another argued. “We’ll be lucky if we’re executed quickly!”

Hector silently scoffed, not giving the meeting much of his attention. He stood by a window, staring out from the castle at the treetops around them. If he squinted hard enough, he thought he could see the arks on their way.

He knew he was just seeing what he wanted to see; there were too many hills between Stormhollow and his castle for him to see them yet. He imagined them all the same, as well as all the things he’d do to the traitors once they arrived.

“Surrendering might also be worth considering,” a third suggested.

That statement brought Hector’s attention crashing back into the meeting.

“WHAT?!” he spat from the window at his half dozen unit commanders who remained. All of them flinched as his aura flared up and started shaking the castle. They’d captured some of the deserters who’d tried fleeing their cause and put their heads on spikes on the walls, but Hector’s aura was so powerful and so out of his control that some of those spikes fell. “We are NOT running away!” Hector emphatically insisted. “We are staying and fighting to the last man! If these traitors want to come here and kill me, they can try and see how well that works out for them!”

An uneasy silence descended upon the hall as the unit commanders exchanged a number of nervous looks, which Hector found himself reveling in.

After a few seconds, one of them hesitantly said, “Well… the thing is… they have us completely outclassed in power. If we… if we stay here, we’ll die.”

Hector half-chuckled half-grunted. “If only everyone could be so lucky to have the opportunity to die for their people. Unfortunately for us, we’re not going to die! When those bastards get here, we’ll kill them, simple as that.”

Another unit commander raised his eyebrows and asked, “And exactly how are we going to do that?”

“We’re better than they are,” Hector insisted. “We have the advantage of fortifications. We’ve gotten enough of the wards working again that we don’t have to fear the war arks, and they don’t have enough soldiers to take us in a proper fight. Even if we don’t beat them in an assault, we’ll force them into a lengthy siege that will buy time for our allies to reinforce us.”

Another round of uneasy looks were exchanged by the unit commanders.

“What allies might those be?” one asked.

“Our Tribesmen will come to our aid,” Hector confidently stated. “When they see the tyrant invading their lands to kill their people, they’ll support us.”

“That’s delusional,” another unit commander said, having said nothing at all since the meeting began. “None of that is going to happen. The—”

His words were cut off when Hector slammed the sharp end of his spear through the man’s throat. He fell, gurgling in a futile attempt to breathe.

“Even if I am, that doesn’t give you the right to be disrespectful,” Hector coldly growled, a manic look in his eyes. “All of you, get to your posts. We’re resisting to the last. This is our last chance to prevent our people from turning to tyranny, and if we have to die to achieve that, then so be it. I’ll defend this castle by myself if I have to, but I will never bow to any of them in Stormhollow!”

His words seemed to strike a few chords with his unit commanders, but their dying comrade was ruining the effect somewhat as he struggled to breathe with such a huge hole in his neck. That he was conscious at all was a testament to his toughness, but Hector saw him summon a healing spell and struggle to apply it.

So, Hector knelt down and moved the spell up to the man’s neck and pressed it in. The spell paper was bloodied, but the spell activated anyway, fixing the damage done to the man’s neck.

“Of us, much is expected, and little is given,” Hector said as he locked eyes with his formerly-dying unit commander. “Such is our lot. Get used to it. It will not hurt for long, and when it’s all over, no matter how it ends, our names will be remembered for all time!”

As he glanced around, he saw that his unit commanders appeared to be steeling themselves for the future. Hector smiled. They would need that steel for the battle to come.

—

Leon stared down at the castle from a fair distance away. He was in his Thunderbird form and was personally scouting out the location. He’d filled the sky with storm clouds, likely giving his presence away, but the arks had already done that so he didn’t care too much about being subtle.

Beside him were Eagles, Hawks, and Ravens, as well as Red, Anzu, and several others not in a beast form that might make flying difficult.

The castle was truly small and quite dilapidated, but Leon could feel at least some magic flowing through the walls.

‘Some of the wards are back up,’ he thought. They weren’t too powerful, but they’d make taking the castle that much harder. More concerningly, however, were the other defenses springing up around the castle. It wasn’t nearly large enough for Hector’s entire force, but the man apparently had a few magic engineers who were busy using earth magic to construct additional walls and towers further down the hill, ensuring what remained of their force had a fortified location to fight from.

Once he’d gotten a good enough of a look, Leon led his people back to their camp, which had sprung up some ten miles upriver. Much of the forest around their chosen staging area had been cleared to make way for the arks to land, and a series of stone walls were erected afterward. However, they hadn’t been there long enough to do much more than set up a few tents.

Landing in front of the command tent, Leon reassumed human form and led his people inside.

“So,” he said as he and his subcommanders assembled around a table where one of the Jaguar’s adjutants began sketching out the castle and the new additions that were being built, “thoughts?”

“We should strike now,” the Jaguar immediately stated. “The longer we wait, the more time we give them to dig in! The sooner we strike, the more effective it will be and the fewer troop we’ll lose!”

“You don’t even want to give them the option to surrender?” Sar asked. He and the Jaguar were the only other ninth-tier Tribesmen in Leon’s current force.

“We know what his answer will be,” the Jaguar darkly stated.

“Whether or not we know it already doesn’t mean we shouldn’t ask,” Sar replied. “You and he used to be friends; is there no way to find some common ground that won’t result in—”

“It is because we used to be friends that I know he won’t surrender,” the Jaguar responded. “No matter what, he will fight to the bitter end! I could envision him running away, I could even see him sallying out to attack us while we’re setting up camp, but I don’t see him ever surrendering.”

“What about his troops?” Valeria asked as she leaned over the map. “Are they as willing to die for… whatever his cause currently is as he is?”

“I agree with the sentiment,” Sar added. “Even if you think you know what Hector’s response may be, it would be unwise to kill fellow Tribesmen without giving them the chance to surrender peacefully.”

“Ask the question,” Tillan’s daughter, a hard-looking woman with one of the most impressive physiques Leon had ever seen, said. “I won’t condone killing Tribesmen without trying peace first.”

“We’ll ask for their surrender,” Leon assured everyone before anyone lost patience, which it seemed the Jaguar was about to do. “Assuming it’s rejected, we need a plan B. The hill is steep on the east and north, so our best approach would be from the south and west. The forest is too thick for MALLs to travel unimpeded, but most of the army should be fine for a march. As we make our approach, the war arks will begin their bombardment of the castle.”

“A sensible plan,” Valeria said with a smile. “What about potential weapons they have in their castle? War beasts?”

“Tigers don’t generally use war beasts,” Sar quietly explained. “And as for weapons, we haven’t seen any.”

Leon projected his magic senses again and noted that of the parts of the castle and the expansions currently being built, he couldn’t see any signs of heavy weaponry on par with even one of the Bull Kingdom’s enchanted trebuchets, let alone a Flame Lance or something of equal caliber. Then again, with plenty of mages capable of storing such weapons in their soul realms running around the castle, Leon couldn’t be sure what Hector might have up his sleeve…

Before the meeting could continue, a runner entered the tent.

“I beg forgiveness my King but it seems that Hector has left the castle!”

—

Leon, Valeria, Sar, and the Jaguar met Hector in the air halfway between the camp and the castle. Hector brought his other commanders with him, and while they slightly outnumbered Leon’s group, Hector was the only ninth-tier mage in his party.

“Disarm yourselves and return to Stormhollow,” the Jaguar growled as soon as they met.

“So eager to jump into things, are we?” Hector responded with a wild smile. “Your ‘King’ hasn’t even spoken yet and you’re already making demands of me!”

The Jaguar scowled but it was Leon who spoke next.

“I’ll give you one chance, Hector. You and your people haven’t done anything unforgivable just yet. But if you resist when we come for that castle…” Leon let them fill in for themselves what came next. For the most part, while he was addressing Hector, he spoke to those to his right and left, hoping that someone in the castle would see reason.

“Have you prepared your will, Leon Raime?” Hector said in response. “I am of the Tiger Tribe! As are my people! What have we done to warrant such an aggressive response? What have we done that would prompt you to enter my Tribe’s territory in such numbers? Has my brother given you his permission to be here? I notice he isn’t here; does he lack the courage to face me himself?”

“Watch your mouth, Hector,” the Jaguar gravely warned, to which Hector’s response was a provocative smile.

“Desertion and conspiring against the Tribes,” Leon smoothly replied. “That is what you’ve done to deserve this response. I urge all of you to surrender. If not, you won’t live long, I promise you that.”

“Threats, is it?” Hector replied. “This has always been your intention, hasn’t it, boy? To come here, quickly place my people back under the yoke, and then feed off our resources to boost your own return to glory? And if any of us argue against that, then you’ll kill us?”

Leon gave him an impatient smile. “I see what you’re doing, Hector. If you truly believe that you’ve done nothing wrong, then throw down your weapons and return to Stormhollow with me.”

“I will put my name on the line to guarantee your safety,” Sar sagely added.

“No,” Hector spat. “I will not bow to you, boy! I will not bow to any Thunderbird King! But since you gave me a courtesy, I’ll see it returned; surrender to me, and I’ll ensure you leave Kataigida alive.”

Leon had to fight the urge to laugh. Nothing was impossible, of course, but he had far too much force on his side for Hector to be making such demands.

“You have until nightfall,” Leon said as he glanced at the sun, noting that it was on its final approach toward the horizon. “If you do not turn yourselves over to me by then, you will be considered in open rebellion, and I will treat you as such. Consider your options carefully.”

With that, he turned and departed, his people falling in just behind him. The Jaguar was the last to follow, though he hesitated only a moment. Leon saw him and Hector sharing a look, but what might’ve silently passed between them, he couldn’t say. Regardless, the Jaguar wore an expression of stoic determination the entire flight back to the camp.

—

Despite Leon’s hopes, there were no more desertions or offers of surrender from Hector’s people. He hoped that there might be one or two unit commanders willing to take him up on his offer, but it seemed that if there was any discontent, none of them were willing to abandon Hector over it.

He wondered if that might change with a siege. He hoped this wouldn’t come to that, but he wondered anyway.

No, he and the army he’d brought were going to take that castle during the night, and woe to any of Hector’s people who fought back.

As his army began its ten-mile movement through the forest, the war arks above them accelerated away. He and a select group followed at a fair distance. They would strike the first blow, hopefully ending the battle before the army even got there.

As Leon flew in Thunderbird form, he filled the sky with his power. At his side flew most of his retainers, with Anzu and Red in beast form. By air, it didn’t take long for them to approach the castle.

Hector didn’t have many people with him with notable power, but he did have a handful of seventh-tier and one eighth-tier subordinate, most of whom were hovering above the castle waiting to greet them.

The arks didn’t get too close. They drew to within a mile and then showed just how fearsome they were as weapons platforms.

The typical Ten Tribes war ark had several different weapon systems. On its flanks, they had relatively small Lances that they could fire off in a broadside, but its main weapon system was a forward-facing Lance that was much larger and tremendously powerful.

The war arks fired their main Lances at the castle, sending three orange-hot masses of molten stone streaking through the sky. Before they hit the castle, however, a golden shield of light snapped into place, covering the entire castle in a dome of protection, including the castle’s recently-built expansions.

With a scowl, Leon watched his arks’ projectiles splash across this shield, doing no visible damage. Not a single man left Hector’s castle.

He sighed, the sound whistling slightly as it passed through his beak.

‘The hard way it is,’ he thought.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep